Death of a Friend

Half a century ago, kosher matzah was not something the Jews of England took for granted. In fact, every year the London Beis Din took out a full page ad in the London Times warning that Rakusen’s matzah, the most widely distributed in the country, was not kosher for Passover.

Then Leslie Fox bought the company.

With the ink barely dry on the contract, Mr. Fox called up the London Beis Din. “Send over a rabbi,” he said, promising to do whatever was necessary to make his product kosher. The next Passover, the ad appearing in the London Times trumpeted: This year you can eat Rakusen’s matzah!

Yechezkel (right) at the author’s wedding.

How many thousands of people ended up eating kosher matzah because of one man? And what kind of son grows up in the house of such a father?

Charles Fox was the heir-apparent to his father’s expanding kosher empire. But that path remained forever the road not taken. Instead, his quiet fishing expeditions and leisurely walks through the British countryside left his mind free to ponder the meaning of life and the nature of the universe. One day he told his traditional parents he was going to Israel to study in yeshiva. Like so many others, they thought he had gone mad.

He would spend the rest of his life pursuing his passion for learning Torah, teaching others and inspiring them to return to the traditions of their people.

By the time I met Charles he had taken his Hebrew name, Yechezkel. Soft-spoken but fiercely determined, light-hearted but deeply passionate, Yechezkel took a sincere interest in everyone, seeing the best in them and attracting them like moths to the warmth of his good humor and winning disposition. In our small yeshiva, it didn’t take long for us to form a friendship that would last nearly 30 years.

Divine Intervention

When Yechezkel and I were senior students in our yeshiva 25 years ago, each of us grappling with stir-craziness as we suffered through one unsuccessful shidduchdate after another.

Near the desperation point, we had asked our rabbi if Jewish mysticism held any answers. He replied unhesitating that we should go to Amuka, the burial site of the Talmudic sage Yonason ben Uziel near Tzefat, to pray for divine intervention.

And so we headed out one stormy December morning, indifferent to both the elements and the incredulous stares of drivers from the windows of their passing cars. As we turned off the highway and onto a rough asphalt road that led up into wooded hills, the torrent became a downpour, then a shower, then a sprinkle, then scarcely more than a mist that danced around our heads.

The sky remained overcast and our clothes stuck to our skin, but our buoyed spirits lifted our feet and carried us as if on the wings of eagles. While we hiked along we reviewed the Talmudic discussions we were learning in yeshiva, exchanged insights into the weekly Torah portion, debated fine points of Jewish thought, and rebuked one another for the slightest deviation from topics of sanctity into matters of the mundane.

An hour later, we broke through the forest into a wide, uneven wadi from whose rocky ground sprouted up a concrete monument. We began our respective recitation of Psalms, neither of us feeling any sense of hurry. Uncertain that we could make it back in time catch a minyan, we decided to say the afternoon prayer then and there. At the very moment we took three steps forward, the clouds broke open for the first time all day, and sharp rays of sunlight set the hills ablaze.

I met my wife the next night. Yechezkel met his wife, Yael, two weeks later.

I met my wife the next night. Yechezkel met his wife, Yael, two weeks later. They were married two weeks before the yahrtzeit of Yonason ben Uziel, whose love of Torah study convinced him to never marry, and who came to regret his decision by the end of his life.

It was a classic story of Yechezkel, for whom the natural laws of cause-and-effect regularly seemed to step out of the way. Before his marriage, coming home from Israel to visit his parents during intersession, he brought with him the minimum supply of scholarly tomes necessary to survive his three-week vacation. The overweight luggage charge exceeded the cost of his plane ticket.

The airline rep looked from Yechezkel to the numbers on his scale and back again. “Give me five pounds,” he said, “and we’ll call it even.”

Like most Jewish functions, Yechezkel and Yael’s wedding did not start on time. When the ceremony failed to materialize before sunset, the ketubah had to be rewritten to account for the different Hebrew date. A few days later, they noticed the inscription on Yechezkel’s grandparents’ silver candlestick holders: they had been married on the same Hebrew date as Yechezkel and Yael.

Seeing the Best in Others

My favorite memory of Yechezkel goes back to a time when he learned a new insight that gave him such raw pleasure he repeated it over and over to anyone who would listen:

Why, he would ask, did the Creator place within man such a limitless capacity for twisted thinking? Why should human beings possess such a penchant for perverse reasoning and self-serving rationalization?

So that we can always find a way to give others the benefit of the doubt! If we can draw on such inexhaustible wellsprings of creativity to justify our own behavior, certainly we can fabricate equally creative explanations to favorably judge others. Of course, for Rabbi Yechezkel Fox such an epiphany seemed entirely superfluous.

A month before this Passover, Yechezkel began to feel sharp pains in his abdomen. Six weeks later he passed away, victim of a particularly virulent form of cancer. He was 51 years old, and had just attended the wedding of his oldest daughter, arriving by ambulance and with great effort walking without the assistance of a wheelchair. The loss of one who never had an unkind word to say about another, and who always strove to see the best in others, is a tragedy for all of us.

At least once a day use your powers of rationalization for the good, to make excuses for others rather than for ourselves.

During these days between Passover and Shavuot, we mourn the 24,000 students of the illustrious Rabbi Akiva, all of whom died because they failed to accord adequate respect to one another, because they never translated their scholarship into sufficient refinement of character. But it was during the same era in history that the Jewish people suffered the tragedy of the ten martyred sages tortured to death by the Roman government. The suffering we bring into the world when we mistreat our fellow Jews is not limited to ourselves: it extends to our leaders and to the righteous in our midst. When we fail to take inspiration from those exceptional individuals among us, we lose the opportunity to be inspired by them altogether.

By remembering those we have lost, however, we keep them very much alive. And so, for the next week (or month, or for the rest of our lives), let us resolve at least once a day to use our powers of rationalization for the good, to make excuses for others rather than for ourselves, to search for the best in those around us, especially when there seems to be no rational defense for their actions.

By doing so, may we take a first step toward finally learning the lessons of respect and Jewish unity; may we thereby merit to see the era of eternal peace arrive speedily and in our days, when all the mourners of Jerusalem and Zion will finally be comforted.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 7

(6)
Nicky Goldman,
June 16, 2014 10:18 PM

So sad

I also knew Charlie at Liverpool University. I remember so well his warm smile and going to his 21st in York. So upset to hear this terrible news. Wishing his family long life. Baruch Dayan Emet.

(5)
Andy Conway,
June 3, 2013 8:37 PM

Charlie Fox, fellow seeker, I won't forget you my friend

This news has left me somewhat shaken but of course I would like to thank you for bringing Charlie's passing to my attention. We met and became very close, living in the same university hall in our first year at Liverpool and going on to share a house in year 3. Together with two other special friends, Charlie helped me to get through the challenging times at Liverpool for sure, but beyond that I remember the laughs, the trips to Kendal, and all the shared ideas and experiences.My thoughts go out to his family and friends.

anton delin,
September 22, 2013 7:43 PM

Charlie Fox,,,,,how would we have eaten kosher in Liverpool

Like Andy i knew Charlie at liverpool uni where his dad supplied us with kosher empire chickens.....
Charlie was agentleman and friend and when i made aliyah i contacted him and to hear his sweet voice was magic...i mourn his passing and wish long life to his wife and children

(4)
Amuka,
May 7, 2013 10:17 PM

origins of amuka

http://tinyurl.com/amuka85

(3)
daniel goldstein,
May 6, 2013 4:18 PM

Rav Fox

I had the privilege to learn under Rav Fox for 5 years. He was incredibly warm, welcoming and patient. He really made it exciting to learn. He will be missed but will live on in his many talmidim.

(2)
Anonymous,
May 6, 2013 3:10 PM

my reply

Yes, Of course!!! I try not to judge my fellow man! I leave that to HKBH!

I was born with a neuromuscular disease known as Spinal Muscular Atrophy and have been confined to a wheelchair my entire life. Unfortunately my sister and I were raised without any religious instruction or guidance. My father wasn't Jewish and although my mother is, she openly claims to be an atheist. The "good news" is that both my sister and myself - independent of each other and at different times in our lives - realized that we are Jewish and chose to live a Jewish life.

Because of my disability, I'm not always able to attend services on Shabbat, but I always light candles, pray from a Siddur and read the weekly Torah portion. I would like to know whether, considering my situation, if using a computer is allowed during the Sabbath? I found the complete Bible online and since my computer is voice-activated I don't have to struggle to turn pages or continuously ask for assistance.

Thank you to everyone at Aish.com for making it possible for myself and so many others to learn about being Jewish and grow in the most important part of our lives.

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Thank you so much for your encouraging words and for sharing your inspiring story.

God gives each of us a set of challenges. To those more capable of conquering difficulties, He gave bigger challenges. A challenge from God is a sign that He cares about us and has confidence in our ability to become great.

It sounds like you're doing great!

As for using the computer on Shabbat, that is prohibited. A foundation of Judaism is that we need to respect God's wishes, even if we think that doing otherwise is "for a good reason." Consider this story:

A king calls in his trusted minister and says: "I have an important mission for you to perform. Go to the neighboring kingdom and meet in the palace with their leaders. But remember one thing - under no circumstances must you remove your shirt during this meeting. Now go and do as I say."

The minister sets off on his merry way and soon arrives at the neighboring kingdom. There he heads straight for the palace where he meets with the King. In the midst of their discussion, he sees some of the king's officers pointing and laughing at him.

"Why are you laughing?" asks the visiting minister.

"Because we've never seen someone with such a pronounced hunchback as yourself," they say.

"What are you talking about? I'm not a hunchback!"

"Of course you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"We'll bet you one million dollars that you are!"

"Fine - I'll gladly take your bet."

"Okay, so take off your shirt and prove it."

At which point the minister remembers the parting words of the king... "under no circumstances must you remove your shirt during the meeting." Yet, the minister reasons, a million dollars would certainly bring added wealth to the king's coffers. I know I'm not a hunchback, so I'll surely win the bet. Of course, under these circumstances the king would approve...

The minister removes his shirt and proudly displays his perfect posture. With pride in his achievement, he holds out his hand, into which is placed a check for one million dollars.

The minister can barely contain his excitement. He quickly ends the meeting and runs back to give the wonderful news to his king. "I earned you a million dollars!" exclaims the minister. "It was easy. I only had to remove my shirt to prove that I wasn't a hunchback."

"You did what?!" shouts the king. "But I told you specifically not to remove your shirt. I trusted that you'd follow instructions, and so I bet the other king $10 million dollars that he couldn't get you to remove your shirt!"

The Torah tells us "Do not add or subtract from the mitzvahs." (Deut. 4:2) Jewish law is a precise metaphysical science. Consider a great work of art. Would you consider adding a few notes to a Bach fugue, or some brushstrokes to a Rembrandt portrait?!

Perfection, by definition, cannot be improved upon. Altering Torah law is an unacceptable implication that God is lacking.

The verse in Psalms 19:8 declares: "Torat Hashem Temimah" - the Torah of God is complete. For just as adding one wire to a transistor radio means it no longer can pick up reception, so too we mustn't tinker with Jewish law. The mitzvahs of God are perfect.

May the Almighty give you strength to continue your growth in Judaism.

In 1315, King Louis X of France called back the Jews who had been expelled a few decades earlier by King Louis IX. This marked a theme in Jewish-French life: expulsions and subsequent invitations to return. The French monarchy was trying to establish their land as the "new Jerusalem," and to fulfill this mission attempted several crusades to Israel. In 1615, King Louis XIII ordered that Christians were forbidden to speak with Jews, upon penalty of death. Eventually, in 1683, King Louis XIV expelled the Jews from the colony of Martinique.

Focus on what you do want. Make your goal explicit. “My goal is to increase my moments of joy.” This way, every single moment of joy is a successful moment.

Celebrate each moment of joy. Be grateful every time you experience joy.

Having this goal will place your attention on joy. Instead of feeling bad when you are not joyful, you will experience positive feelings about experiencing more joy.

Each moment of joy in your entire life is experienced one moment at a time. You can’t have more than one moment of joy in any given moment, but you can increase the number of joyful moments. How? By focusing on it.

There is no person on earth so righteous, who does only good and does not sin (Ecclesiastes 7:20).

Reading the suggestions for ridding oneself of character defects, someone might say, "These are all very helpful for someone who has character defects, but I do not see anything about myself that is defective."

In the above-cited verse, Solomon states what we should all know: no one is perfect. People who cannot easily find imperfections within themselves must have a perception so grossly distorted that they may not even be aware of major defects. By analogy, if a person cannot hear anything, it is not that the whole world has become absolutely silent, but that he or she has lost all sense of hearing and may thus not be able to hear even the loudest thunder.

In his monumental work, Duties of the Heart, Rabbeinu Bachaye quotes a wise man who told his disciples, "If you do not find defects within yourself, I am afraid you have the greatest defect of all: vanity." In other words, people who see everything from an "I am great/right" perspective will of course believe that they do no wrong.

When people can see no faults in themselves, it is generally because they feel so inadequate that the awareness of any personal defects would be devastating. Ironically, vanity is a defense against low self-esteem. If we accept ourselves as fallible human beings and also have a sense of self-worth, we can become even better than we are.

Today I shall...

be aware that if I do not find things within myself to correct, it may be because I am threatened by such discoveries.

With stories and insights,
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